


It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn

by halzbarryscerek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark Stiles, M/M, Post-Nogitsune
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halzbarryscerek/pseuds/halzbarryscerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew the Nogitsune was gone, because he didn't have that horrible creature whispering disgusting things in his ear about what he should do to his friends, but he could still feel remnants of darkness around his heart. More specifically, he felt anger, hatred and sadistic cruelty towards Scott. His wonderful, amazing best friend, who sacrificed so much just to save him. Who had to bear the pain of losing Allison just so he wouldn't lose him. It sickened him how much he wanted to hurt him, but he did. He wanted Scott to suffer more. He wanted to inflict as much pain as he could on him, emotionally and physically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuickLikeLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/gifts).



> A birthday present for the amazing [Anne](http://quicklikelight.tumblr.com/), one of my favorite Sciles writers on here.
> 
> Enjoy yet another fic that incorporate some of my favorite things: sad Stiles, Scott whump, and Sciles kisses.

"I wanna kill you."

He was almost surprised by how easy the words came out of his mouth. Easier than swallowing the bile that was beginning to rise in his throat for just admitting those words. But what surprised him more was that Scott didn't really react to them. In fact, he just blinked at him and nodded his head in understanding. How can anyone even understand that? How can anyone even understand him? Stiles didn't even understand himself.

He knew the Nogitsune was gone, because he didn't have that horrible creature whispering disgusting things in his ear about what he should do to his friends, but he could still feel remnants of darkness around his heart. More specifically, he felt anger, hatred and sadistic cruelty towards Scott. His wonderful, amazing best friend, who sacrificed so much just to save him. Who had to bear the pain of losing Allison just so he wouldn't lose him. It sickened him how much he wanted to hurt him, but he did. He wanted Scott to suffer more. He wanted to inflict as much pain as he could on him, emotionally and physically.

He sat up from his spot on Scott's bed—the right side of the bed, because Scott slept on his side and Mr. Protective Alpha likes to be the big spoon—and he looked down at his friend, who laid stretched out like a lazy cat, wearing a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, and studied him. He moved over him and straddled him as the morning sunlight hit his face. It was then he could see the concern on Scott's face. The Nogitsune did a number on Stiles' body and overall health. He was incredibly thin; his ribcage jutted out and his face looked so gaunt and hollow. He must've looked like a shell of his former self.

"Have you been eating?" Scott asked.

"Not really," Stiles mumbled as he eyed the small strip of skin under above the waistline of Scott's sweats. He snaked his fingers under his shirt and scratched lightly at his stomach, feeling around the area where he—the _Nogitsune_ —had stabbed a fucking sword through. So relentless and evil that the thought still brought nightmares to him.

Scott just laid there and let him feel him up. He knew what Stiles was going through and understood the way he felt. But regardless of how fucked up Stiles was acting, he still wanted to be there for him because that is what friends did, and that is what Scott McCall does.

Stiles scratched harder this time, leaving small red marks over Scott's abs and making the werewolf hiss in surprise. The red marks faded almost instantly. The enhanced healing had begun to fascinate Stiles in the wrong way. He had begun to think up the amount of things he could do to make Scott bleed and heal again. He wanted to stab him, slice him, burn him. He wanted Scott to hurt and he cried himself to sleep over it.

"I—I . . . " Stiles didn't even know how to put it in words, but Scott still knew what he was going to say.

"I know," he responded.

Stiles balled his fist and swiped it over Scott's face with a loud thwack. It probably hurt him more than it hurt Scott, but Stiles still felt better. Satisfied. A chuckle spilled out of his lips, and he could only hate himself further for it. There was hardly a bruise on his friend's cheek. Stupid fucking werewolf healing powers again.

"I'm sorry," Stiles said emotionlessly.

"It's okay," Scott responded softly. "You should just let it out. You deserve to."

"No, I don't." And he didn't. After everything he's done, he doesn't deserve even to breathe. "I killed those people, I killed . . . _her_."

Tears welled up in his eyes as Scott's features became sadder at the mention of Allison. He placed his hands on Stiles' thin hips and rubbed at the protruding bones. "Don't worry about it. Just worry about you. Worry about your dad and school. Don't worry about me."

"I fucking hate you," Stiles spat out angrily.

"I know."

"I fucking hate you! Fucking, fucking hate you!" Stiles had begun to whimper and pull at his hair angrily as he tried to will the dark thoughts away. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

He choked out a sob as he bent down and let himself be wrapped in Scott's arms. Scott just rubbed his back soothingly, whispering "It's okay," over and over, only for Stiles to respond, "No, it's not," over and over.

There are days that are good. Stiles is able to get out of Scott's room and eat what's on his plate, even if it was smaller portions than everyone else's. And he has no more than two panic attacks. And then there are bad days, when Stiles would wake up flailing and screaming, only to have to be restrained by Scott until he is able to calm down and breathe normally. Stiles would avoid eating breakfast with the McCalls and just seal himself up in Scott's room. One time when he was eating with Melissa and Scott, he kept eyeing the fork in his hand and imagined what it would be like to jam it into Melissa's neck. He didn't want to have that feeling again.

The sheriff would stop by every single day to see Stiles' progress, to see how the McCalls were doing, and occasionally stay for dinner. Sometimes, Stiles would refuse to see him, because he didn't want his own father to see how awful he is. He didn't want to see the looks of pity or the concern when Stiles was having one of his darker days. The better days were filled with small laughs and encouraging pats on the back. He didn't want those to be tainted by Stiles' sadistic tendencies that still lingered from your friendly, neighborhood nogitsune.

Three weeks since the Nogitsune, and Stiles had begun to get bolder. His touches were becoming more sexual, but no less sadistic. He dug his nails in harder on Scott's skin and kept them there, revelling in the feeling of the skin healing around his fingers until he finally pulled them away for the skin to stitch back together completely. He would gently stroke Scott's hard cock before moving his bony fingers down to his balls, twisting them until Scott cried out. He'd also start biting everywhere. He'd bite Scott's stomach, his shoulder, his jaw, his neck. And Scott just let him do it. Scott was a good guy, but he let people take advantage of him too easily. Except for maybe Derek and Peter. Those two failed at life repeatedly too much for Scott to let them walk all over him.

After chomping a nice chunk of Scott's bicep, so much that he almost bit it clean off, he licked at the small trickle of blood that came out before Scott's skin sucked it back in and healed. The coppery taste lingered on his tongue as he lifted Scott's wifebeater over his head. He rubbed his hands over his pecs, squeezing them and dragging his nails over them. His cock hardened in his sweats and poked at Scott's stomach.

"Why are you letting me do this to you?"

Scott blinked. "Because you need it. You need to get it out of your system."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then I'd rather you hurt me than someone else."

And that was what made Scott great. He cared about people. He wasn't doing this just for Stiles, but also to protect everyone else. Leave it to Scott McCall.

Stiles leaned down and lightly pressed his lips over Scott's in a soft kiss before he bit down hard on Scott's lower lip, drawing blood. Scott whimpered slightly but swallowed it up immediately after and let the lip heal itself. After it healed, Stiles draped himself over Scott's body until his eyes felt heavy and he let sleep take him.

Stiles was still having nightmares, but they were slowly getting less and less frequent. A month has gone by since the Nogitsune and Stiles was starting to finally come back to himself. He was still having the dark thoughts and he still wanted to hurt Scott, but he no longer wanted to hurt anyone else. It was just Scott, and Scott was more than willing to be his personal punching bag until whatever remained of that horrible spirit had left him for good.

"I'm getting better," Stiles whispered as he and Scott faced each other on the bed. He traced a finger over Scott's lips, feeling how soft and kissable they were. "I'm . . . I'm starting to have less bad thoughts."

"I know you are." Scott beamed. Even someone has evil as the Nogitsune was no match for Scott's amazing smile. "You're going to be get better."

During one of their 'cuddle sessions', as Stiles would jokingly call them, something Scott said had caused Stiles to snap momentarily and he began to thrash about, hitting Scott repeatedly in the face until he broke his nose and gave him a nasty shiner that even impressed Scott, considering how frail and bony Stiles' fingers were. Again, they disappeared almost as quick as they formed and Scott's nose was twisted back into place.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Stiles cried as the beginnings of a panic attack began to hit him.

"It's okay, it's okay," Scott would say as he hugged him tighter against his chest.

School was going to start soon, and Stiles wondered if he'll be okay enough to start or if he'd have to settle for homeschool like some weirdly-religious inbred. By now, he was finally able to return to the Stilinski household, under the sheriff's watchful eye. He had taken time off to be there for Stiles and he vowed not to return until he could be there, even if he was risking the loss pay and the mounting bills. Much like how the sheriff visited the McCall household, Scott came by the Stilinski residence just as frequently. It was important for Stiles to have a constant during this time, so any relapsing would be reduced.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Okay, I guess."

"Are you eating?"

Stiles nodded his head. "I'm eating bigger portions now. I never realized how starving I was until I had a steak. And dad even ate a salad without being told, so that's good." They laughed together at that. And it seemed like a genuine, good-natured laugh from Stiles instead of the down-troddened, self-deprecating ones that Stiles had forced himself to muster this past month.

Afterwards, Scott's features darkened and he looked at his best friend seriously. "Any bad thoughts?"

"Not as much."

"Any about . . . me?"

Stiles looked away. It was all the confirmation he needed. "Do you know why I have all these thoughts?"

Scott shook his head.

"Because when I was possessed by that . . . it would tell me these . . . _things_ about you. It just made me . . . angry and want to hurt you. Even though I knew they were lies. He made me _enjoy_ pushing that sword into you and I still want to. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to not want to."

Scott put his hand on Stiles' knee. "I can take it, Stiles. However long it takes, I will make sure you get better. Even if it—"

"Don't," Stiles interrupted, "Don't say 'even if it kills you'. Because I'm afraid I'm going to take you up on that."

"You won't."

"I want to. I wanna kill you, Scott. And I can't . . . " A horrible sob came out of him. "I can't stop thinking about it. I hate myself everyday over it."

"Don't, alright? Stop feeling guilty over it. I understand, we all understand. We know what that thing did to you and you're healing. It's slow and it's going to take time, but you are healing. You're gonna be okay, Stiles. I promise."

The fifth week, the week the new semester came around, was a better week for Stiles. He was walking around the house, speaking normally, eating bigger meals, and more importantly, he was having less nightmares. They were almost completely gone now. He lasted four whole days without a panic attack, too. In fact, he was progressing so well that his dad even considered letting him go back to school, but he would take the first week off first. Scott came by to see how he was doing.

"Hey," Stiles smiled when he came in to his room.

"Hey," Scott smiled back. "You look great." And he did. Stiles' body was no longer frail-looking and he look well-rested, even if his hair still looked like he rolled out of bed. But that was just how Stiles looked all the time.

Stiles bit his lip and motioned for him to come closer. "C'mere."

Stiles allowed himself to be enveloped in Scott's arms, burying his nose into his neck and inhaling his cologne. "God, you smell amazing."

"You, too."

"I haven't even showered."

"But you smell . . . _happier_."

Stiles rolled his eyes and released himself from the. "Oh, right. I forgot. Super werewolf smelling. How I envy you."

Scott smiled bashfully. "You seem like you're back to your old self."

"Feels like it," Stiles nodded his head.

And when he thought about it, Stiles didn't remember feeling particularly murderous towards his best friend today. In fact, he felt particularly happy in a non-sadistic way when Scott came to see him. He hugged him without wanting to bite him and wrapped his arms around him without snaking his fingers around his throat to cut off the oxygen. That was a good sign.

At some point, their mouths found each other again. Stiles wasn't sure, but he felt like he initiated the kiss. Unlike the other times, when they were chaste before being followed by a bite. This kiss was more intense and heated, and there was less sadism behind it. Without ever unlocking their lips, Scott pushed them both on to the bed and deepened their passion. Scott ground down on Stiles' crotch, cocks rubbing against each other through the denim of their jeans.

Moments later, they laid entangled in each other, skin glistening with sweat and the fronts of their underwear soiled, but they were happy. Stiles was happy.

"So, that Malia girl . . ." Scott began casually.

Stiles flinched. He had almost forgot about her. Their little hook-up at Eichen House was fun and all, and he certainly wouldn't mind a sequel to that little escapade, but things did seem a little awkward since the last time they saw each other, he had just allowed a thousand-year-old dark fox spirit to possess him. At least he came out like a hero and saved her from having her brains turned to mush by a power drill.

"What about her?" he asked.

"She's gonna go to our school," Scott continued. "She wants to see you."

"Yeah . . ." Stiles muttered, "I don't know what's going to happen with that."

"Are you even okay to be in a relationship?"

"Probably not, but it'd be a nice distraction." Scott hummed and they laid in silence. "Thanks for this, by the way. I know you're not into this stuff, but it was nice of you."

Scott laid his chin down on Stiles' shoulder before smirking. "Who says I'm not into it?"

"Come on, Scott," Stiles huffed, "You're, like, the straightest straight guy around."

". . . who just got done making out and dry-humping his _male_ best friend."

Stiles whacked his arm playfully. "Hey, I'm the sarcasm guy. You're the hot guy that everyone falls in love with because you're amazing at _everything_." It was an exaggeration, of course, but it wasn't like it was far from the truth. It seemed like everyone in this town worshipped the ground Scott walked on. He was pretty certain Derek Hale wore "I Heart Scott McCall" shirts under all of his clothing. Stiles also wouldn't even be surprised if the guy had balls of Scott's hair either.

Scott laughed. "I may not be into dudes, but I still love you, Stiles. You mean the world to me, even if it doesn't feel that way sometimes."

"Thanks, Scott." Stiles' lip quivered as he wiped a little, baby tear from his eye. "That means a lot. . . But we can't be together. You know that, right?"

The look on Scott's face told Stiles that he didn't know. "Scott, I love you. I love you so fucking much. But I tried to kill you, and for the past month, I've had thoughts about killing you. That's not exactly the basis of a healthy relationship."

"So what?"

"So what? Scott, that's not normal."

The wolf scoffed. "I think we're way past 'normal' by now." Pause. "I want you to be happy, Stiles. Whatever you decide, I'll support it. But don't deny yourself nice things because you feel guilty. You deserve happiness, Stiles."

"I wish I could believe that."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles have another talk and have a long discussion about guilt and the status of their "relationship".

Stiles has never realized how much he loves kissing Scott. He would kiss him at any opportunity he got the chance. He would plant a nice, sloppy one on him after lacrosse practice, earning a few hoops and hollers and even groans of displeasure from their teammates. He would kiss his cheek whenever Scott would bring their lunch to their table when Stiles was feeling a little woozy that day. And after school make-out sessions were his favorite Scott-kissing time, because that's when the uncontrollable boners and the following dry-humping would ensue.

Stiles will never get enough of having his lips on Scott's. They fit together perfectly like a puzzle.

And Stiles was surprised to learn how horny Scott could be. If Stiles was eager to get his mouth on Scott, Scott was eager to get down to the sexy times as soon as possible, even if the whole world had a front row seat. Guess that whole Golden Boy, True Alpha, "goody two-shoes" act that Scott had going for him was just a ruse to hide the dirty, little pervert underneath. But Stiles can't say he can complain, because he rather loved it when Scott would rut against him. The friction between their cocks felt amazing, even if they've never gone anywhere past on-top-of-the-clothes stuff.

Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face, frustrated with the paper in front of him. Maybe he should've played up the traumatized evil Stiles thing a little while longer so he could avoid having to deal with the real evil of Beacon Hills: weekend homework. The Nogitsune had nothing on this shit. Stiles had returned to school and suddenly everything felt like it was normal. Almost like he didn't just go on a murderous rampage across town or had dark thoughts about killing his best friend while molesting his body. Yeah, Stiles has had a fucked up winter break. And he wasn't sure what he was getting out of this. He wasn't even sure that he deserved anything out of this.

He heard a knock before his dad opened the door. "Hey, kiddo, Scott's here."

Stiles perked up a bit. "Let him in."

The sheriff nodded his head before stepping out of the way for Scott to enter. It took all of three seconds before Stiles couldn't control himself and hugged his best friend tight in his arms. He breathed in, inhaling his scent again.

"Stiles, you're acting like we haven't seen each other in years," Scott laughed. "We just saw each other yesterday."

"Fuck, that was fourteen hours ago."

Scott chuckled.

"I'm still . . . Don't ever leave me."

"I won't."

Stiles finally let him go from his death grip of a bear hug and sat back against his desk chair. "I'm sorry for acting so clingy. I'm still kind of coping, y'know?"

Scott nodded as he took a seat at the edge of Stiles' bed. "I understand."

"You've been a great friend, Scott. Thanks for having my back." The corner of Scott's mouth quirked up in that bashful side-smirk that drove Stiles crazy. "Goddamn it, Scott. You look fucking hot today."

It was so forward. Stiles would've never believed he would ever be so comfortable saying things like that to his best friend. Being possessed by an evil demon fox spirit helps a guy learn a lot about himself. Like how much Scott had meant to him, whether it was a platonic love or a romantic one. And when Stiles thought about it, it was always just them. Through divorce, through deaths in the family, through social ostracism, dating girls, and evil werewolves. Through kanimas, foxes, and dark druids with faces that looked like bacon wraps. No matter what, they always had each other and Stiles regretted every day he was ever mad at him for something stupid like making out Lydia or taking the last pudding in the fridge.

Stiles spared no time before he was on top of Scott, devouring the Alpha wolf's mouth like it held the key to eternal life. And Scott became more and more animalistic with his kissing, nipping and sucking on Stiles' lips. After several minutes of tongue-fucking each other's mouths, they stopped and cooled down.

"Y'know, Scotty boy," Stiles breathed out, "This is fun and all, but when are we gonna evolve from outsidies to insidies?"

Scott responded with another chuckle before shedding shirt and unbuckling his belt. Getting impatient, Stiles helped him unbutton his jeans and removing them along with his boxers. Stiles marveled at how beautiful Scott's body was. All of that werewolfiness helped Scott out turn himself from a scrawny, twink-looking teen into a hot, sexy Alpha. The cock was a nice touch, too. It felt rigid and stiff in Stiles' hand, and leaked in eager excitement at the attention it was about to receive.

Stiles quickly shed his clothing before Scott was on top of him again, their bodies melding together and their skin slick with sweat as they took their passion to the next level. Because Stiles was always prepared (and by "prepared", he actually masturbates a lot), he quickly fumbled through the drawer in his nightstand for the lube he had . . . Strawberry-flavored.

"Do you have a condom?" Scott asked.

Stiles blinked. Well, shit. "No," he responded, dead-panned.

"What about that extra-large condom you had?"

"I used it."

"On who?"

Offended, Stiles' jaw went slack and his face flushed pink in embarrassment, which trailed down to his chest. "I . . . I was trying it on . . . to see if it fit."

Scott gave him a funny, skeptical look and asked, "Did it?"

Again, Stiles looked completely offended. "Yes, it did!"

The look that Scott gave him this time had said it all. He probably didn't even need super werewolf hearing to detect that lie. "No," he muttered.

Scott took a second to think to himself. "Maybe we can do it without one?"

"Is that sanitary?"

"Well, I'm a werewolf and I can't get diseases. And I certainly can't give you any if I don't have any in the first place, right?"

This time it was Stiles' turn to think to himself. Now that he put it that way, it did make some kind of sense. He nodded his head and let Scott prep them. He shivered when he felt Scott's cold, wet fingers slide inside him, but they went in easily enough. Before long, Scott was inside Stiles and the sting of the act felt oddly comforting to him in a way.

His thrusts had begun to get more rough as Stiles dragged his fingernails over Scott's shoulder. "Harder," Scott said. "Scratch me harder."

Stiles dug deeper, raking his nails over Scott's back, making sure to peel the skin off. Scott growled in delight. Stiles hasn't felt the urge to hurt Scott since the Nogitsune, so this seemed a little off-putting to him for the most part. But to be perfectly honest, he didn't really care, considering he had Scott's cock inside his ass at the moment.

Their tryst ended just as quick and hastily as it started, and they eventually flopped on top of each other, their legs intertwined with one another and sticky from their sinful activities. The scratch marks on Scott's back had faded almost immediately after Stiles scratched them in.

"That was awesome." Stiles huffed out as he tried to regulate his breathing. "It hurt like a bitch, but that was awesome."

Scott sighed. "Yeah, it was."

He didn't say it with a lot of energy. Like he was distracted or something.

"What's the matter?"

"What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?" Stiles sat up on his elbow and looked down at his best friend as Scott stared up at the ceiling, contemplating.

"I mean, we kiss each other, we—we do this . . ." He motioned between the two of them. "I mean, what exactly are we? Are we dating?"

Stiles shook his head adamantly and lied back. "No, Scott. I told you already. We can't have a relationship. Not after everything I did."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Stiles, we hang out all the time. We talk about stuff with each other that we don't talk about with other people. We always have each other's backs. And that's on top of us kissing and stuff. I'm pretty sure the entire school thinks we're sleeping together."

The human shrugged. "Well, technically, we have slept together. I mean, all those sleepovers, we slept in the same bed. That counts."

"Stiles," Scott said warningly. "Stiles, we are dating. I'm pretty sure this is what dating people do."

Stiles got up and began getting dressed. "Well, then. We're gonna stop doing this then."

"What?" Scott exclaimed as he sat up with a shocked look on his face.

"We're not doing this anymore. This was our first and last time. I think you should leave."

But Scott just looked at him. His eyes were filled with hurt and anger and confusion. Not the best combination. He scooted to the edge of the bed and grabbed his pants and underwear. Stiles quickly got dressed and returned to his original spot at his desk.

When Scott was done pulling his clothes on, he stood up and crossed his arms. "Don't do this, Stiles. Stop denying yourself nice things for once."

"No, Scott!" Stiles yelled. He doesn't ever yell at Scott like that. They've had fights before, but the tone in his voice seemed to have cut deeper. "No! I am not doing this. I can't be with you. Not everything I've done to you. It's not . . . It's not right."

"Stiles . . . "

"No! What if I lose control and do all of those sick things to you again, huh? I would never be able to live with myself. If we got together, do you know what that would make me? An abusive boyfriend."

"You're not an abusive boyfriend, Stiles."

Stiles shook his head, disbelieving. There was no other way around. You don't hurt the people you love the way Stiles has hurt Scott. "I have . . . I have a lot of guilt."

Scott scoffed. "You don't think I have guilt? I feel guilty every day. I felt guilty when my dad left. Like I couldn't do anything about it because I wasn't good enough. I've felt guilty ever since I got bitten by Peter. I mean, there were so many people I could've helped—that I should've helped—but I couldn't do anything about it because I have absolutely no idea what the hell I'm doing. I could've protected those people who got killed by Jackson if I had just listened to Derek. I could've saved those cops at the station. But I didn't know what to do, alright? Because I'm stupid and scared and . . ." His eyes became glassy as he sat back down on the bed. "I hate that everybody looks at me like I'm some kind of leader. I'm just a kid, dude. I'm just a kid."

Stiles remained silent and worried his lip. He hasn't seen Scott vulnerable like this since his dad left him and Mrs. McCall. There was some truth to his words, though. He had a lot responsibility for a kid his age. But he was still just a kid. They were all just kids. Most people will never have the amount of stress that they go through in their entire lives.

"Sometimes, I don't even want to be Alpha," Scott whispered. "Sometimes, I just wanna be Scott."

By now, Stiles was full on chewing on his thumbnail. "I'm sorry, Scott."

"It's not all that bad," Scott said, "I mean, I feel like I haven't really accomplished anything and all these people say all these great things about me like I'm the greatest thing in the world, when I'm far from it. But I still don't deny myself luxuries."

Stiles smiled. "Luxuries? Like what?"

Scott returned the smile. "Like lacrosse. My bike . . . You."

Stiles raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Me?"

"I love you, Stiles. And it's weird because I didn't really think about it until now, but I love you. I guess it's a little messed up that it took you getting possessed by a thousand-year-old evil fox for me to realize it."

Stiles twiddled his thumbs. This was overwhelming to listen to. Time to back out. He needed to do what he's terrible at and keep his mouth shut or he'll say something he would regret later on. "I love you, too, Scott."

Platonic love. Just bros loving bros. The fact that they just had sex was irrelevant.

"I think I've always loved you." That was damning evidence for something he will regret later. "I just didn't want to admit it to myself."

"Believe me, Stiles, I wanted to deny myself the few good things in my life because I didn't think I deserved them, too," the wolf admitted, "I even let you beat up on me like you did because I felt like I deserved some punishment for . . ."

He didn't even have to say it for Stiles to know what he's talking about. They were best friends after all. "For Allison."

"I think I'm more to blame than you. I didn't do anything to help, I was just . . . God, I was just there doing nothing."

Stiles thought to himself for a moment before getting up and taking a seat next to him on the bed. They stared into each other's eyes, studying one another. They didn't need words to communicate, sometimes they could say everything with thought and by the unmistakable look of longing in their eyes, they knew what they wanted. Stiles made the first move, leaning in closer to Scott before planting his lips against the Alpha wolf's. Scott returned the kiss with the same fervor as his hyperactive best friend.

Stiles pulled back after several seconds and said, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Just . . . Just for being you. Being the you I fell in love with."

"What? A complete failure?"

"No, Derek's a complete failure," Stiles said cheekily, rubbing a thumb over Scott's crooked jaw. "You, on the other hand . . . you're so strong and you don't even know it."

Scott looked him in the eye. "You're strong, too, Stiles," he said truthfully. "You've always been strong. You held your own against the Nogitsune. You've held your own against pretty much every supernatural creature that's been by this town."

He linked his fingers through Stiles' fingers and rubbed his friend's knuckle with the pad of his thumb.

"So, I guess . . . I guess we're a thing?"

Scott chuckled. "Pretty sure we've always been a thing."

He snorted. "Yeah, I guess we have." He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed Scott's knuckle. "I'm your boyfriend. I'm Scott McCall's boyfriend. I am Scott McCall's boyfriend. I'm—"

"Stiles!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Contact Me](http://hobroseyberry.tumblr.com/ask)

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a Part 2, because this needs a happier ending.


End file.
